Fade Like a Shadow
by drumblonde
Summary: AU Blaine is extremely close to losing Kurt. How does he get through this? Reviews are lovely :  One-shot, but I might make this longer if anyone wants.


**So this has been lying around in my documents folder for a while, and I kinda forgot about it. Written during the first hiatus, before things were canon. I guess I have some sort of affinity for angst, but here you go.**

**Enjoy and review! :)**

**Song is Like You'll Never See Me Again by Alicia Keys**

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><p>Blaine sat in his car, head rested on the back of the seat, listening to the CD that Kurt recorded for him of all their favorite songs. He had listened to almost the entire thing, but he couldn't bring himself to press play to the last track on the album. Every time it came to this certain song, he just skipped it or changed CD's. This time though, he forced himself to press the button, and sat with a stony face as the twinkling sounds of a piano floated through the speakers in the car. He braced himself for what came next.<p>

_If I had no more time,_

_No more time left to be here,_

_Would you cherish what we had?_

_Was it everything that you were looking for?_

_If I couldn't feel your touch,_

_And no longer were you with me,_

_I'd be wishing you were here,_

_To be everything that I'd be looking for._

_I don't wanna forget the present is a gift,_

_And I don't wanna take for granted the time you may have here with me,_

_'Cause Lord only knows another day is not really guaranteed._

He was about to press pause, but now he sat transfixed, listening to the song, overflowing with emotion at the words Kurt was singing.

_So every time you hold me,_

_Hold me like this is the last time;_

_Every time you kiss me,_

_Kiss me like you'll never see me again._

_Every time you touch me,_

_Touch me like this is the last time;_

_Promise that you'll love me,_

_Love me like you'll never see me again,_

_Oh oh oh._

If only he had known when recording the song, that it would somehow be relevant. Blaine just sat there, tears now streaming freely from his eyes as he could no longer hold back the immense pain and longing that the song brought him. He sat with his face in his hands, weeping uncontrollably, until the last strains of the song drifted away, and he was left in silence.

Wiping the last of the sorrow from his face, he got out of the car and slammed the door shut, heading for the doors of the pristine hospital. They slid open and he went straight for the elevator to his right, and jammed his finger to the button that would take him to the fifth floor. Once there, he walked straight down the hall, and then took a left when he came to the end. The last door on the right was already open, and he walked in.

"I brought you more flowers. They're purple, today. I know how much you love purple flowers. I'll just put them in the vase," he said to the still form lying on the bed. He had to look away before he lost it again, and busied himself with putting the fresh flowers in the clear vase that sat on the windowsill. The song lingered in his mind, unable to shake it from his thoughts.

_How many really know what love is?_

_Millions never will,_

_Do you know until you lose It,_

_That it's everything that we are looking for._

_When I wake up in the morning,_

_You're beside me,_

_I'm so thankful that I found,_

_Everything that I been looking for._

_I don't wanna forget the present is a gift,_

_And I don't wanna take for granted the time you may have here with me,_

_'Cause Lord only knows another day is not really guaranteed._

"The doctors say I'm crazy. They say I need to stop coming here, and to just let it go. But you know that I could never leave you here. I did say that I would always protect you. I'm just trying to make up for it. I know, I shouldn't blame myself. But every day, I die a little inside because I didn't see the car until it was too late. I should have warned you, jumped out into the street myself, something, to keep this from happening." He was rambling now, like he did every day when he came to visit Kurt in the hospital. The doctors pitied him; they said he probably couldn't hold on much longer and how he should leave before it would happen. "But now—I just—I…" He broke down for the second time that day. He went over to the door and closed it before climbing onto Kurt's hospital bed and curling up next to him. He stroked his face—still beautiful, despite the scratches and bruises and cuts that lined it, and the stitches that bunched along his hairline. He started singing, softly.

_So every time you hold me,_

_Hold me like this is the last time;_

_Every time you kiss me,_

_Kiss me like you'll never see me again._

_Every time you touch me,_

_Touch me like this is the last time;_

_Promise that you'll love me,_

_Love me like you'll never see me again._

He had to stop; it was too much to continue. He kissed Kurt's silent lips, tasting only the saltiness of his own tears and rested his head next to Kurt's and drifted off to sleep. When he awoke, Kurt was still in his coma, and he was still lying beside Kurt, holding onto him as if each breath he drew would take him away with it. Blaine lay like that for hours, not willing himself to move in case Kurt slipped away from him.

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><p>Every day was like this, but for some reason, this day felt a lot different. Blaine felt as if something was going to happen, and he couldn't tell what it was or why a part of him was clinging to the shred of hope for Kurt.<p>

All he could do was be there, waiting for news, a flicker of life, _something_ to tell him that all his efforts to be there were worth even a little bit. There had been scary moments when he hadn't been there for Kurt, and it made him crazy to think that he could have died on the spot without him there for his last moments. He vowed to spend every single moment of his life with him, even if it meant that death came early for Kurt, lurking in the doorway. He would accept it when the time came. But for now, all he could do was be there.

The darkness was overwhelming to Kurt, save for a tiny pinprick of light far off in the corner. He was miserable—unable to move, talk, react. He knew everything that went on, but he was going mad because he couldn't do a thing. He had been kept in this frozen world for six weeks now. He wanted more than anything to tell the beautiful boy next to him that he couldn't be blamed for what had happened. But he was resigned to just lay there instead of comforting him. Blaine needed Kurt this time.

He struggled to fight the fogginess that crept around the corners of his brain. _No, I can't let go,_ he thought. _I have to stay here. I have to be here for Blaine. _His fight was cut short all of a sudden.

Blaine looked up at the silence that filled the room, alarmed. The steady beeping of the heart monitor slowed down immensely, and he jumped up out of his bed. He grabbed the call cord and yanked it nearly out of the wall, desperately calling for the nurses' attention.

"_Help!" _He screamed frantically, tears running down his face. Kurt's heartbeat only slowed down more, as he scrambled to the door. "_Help! Somebody, please help!" _The nurses flew into the room to attend to the dying figure on the bed. The doctors were now running in, trying to fight their way past Blaine, who was by this point hysterical. He was yelling out unrecognizable words, with the occasional "NO!" and "I'm so sorry," and "why". It took three doctors to hold Blaine back and remove him from the room, for his own sake. They explained to him that he needed to be out of the room for something like this, and to find something to do.

Eventually he followed their advice and ended up in the hospital chapel. He was never really a religious person, but he prayed like he had been doing so all his life. Anything he could do to help save Kurt. He would really do anything.

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><p>The light remained a tiny speck in the corner of Kurt's vision. Or what could be his vision. He wasn't sure what to call it because he didn't feel anything. Before, he had, and he had also seen Blaine a lot in his vision. Here, in this state was a lot of darkness and muffled noises. He hoped that he wasn't dead, because there was so much more that he needed to say, so much more that he needed to do. It couldn't be over already—there had been no time to fight it. It just came too quickly, and the more he thought about it, the more he wished he could tell what was going on, at least. He wanted to see the light frame Blaine's dark curly hair the way he had accustomed himself to seeing. He wanted to hear Blaine sing more songs softly to him, the way he had been for the last six weeks. And he just wanted to be with Blaine, even if it were just for a short while. It made him think of all the moments they had taken for granted with one another.<p>

The speck of light grew brighter, and it began to encompass the entirety of the darkness. With a flash, everything bounced back into focus, and Kurt took a gasping breath as the doctors tried another attempt at reviving him. They stopped when they saw his breathing return to an acceptable rate and his heartbeat rose until it was beeping steadily on the monitor. His eyes flashed open for a moment, then closed again. The doctors just looked around in shock—they clearly didn't expect something like that, and they snapped out of their confusion to send somebody to find Blaine.

The nurse that they sent found him still in the chapel, knelt in the front row, knuckles white from clasping his hands together so hard. "Blaine?" He looked up at the nurse, eyes red and puffy. He sniffed a little before he answered. "Yes?"

"You are needed in Kurt's room at once," was all she said before she turned to leave. He got up from his place on the floor and winced at how stiff his legs were. He had no idea how much time had passed since he was pulled from Kurt's room, and it felt like hours to his weary body. He walked down the hall, bracing himself for what was surely going to be the news he wanted to hear last of all. He stopped outside his room for a moment and took a deep breath.

He walked in to see Kurt's fragile body still lying in the bed with his head tilted to the side peacefully. Blaine's spirits dropped—he thought they were letting him say his final goodbyes before they took Kurt away, so he went over to the bed and sat down in the chair next to it and took one of Kurt's hands in his and began to talk. His heart was pounding through to his ears, so he was completely deaf to any other sounds that filled the room.

He didn't really know what exactly he talked about, just that he rambled on for a long time before his eyes misted over again and he had to stop. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the hand that he held gently in his own, twisting the ring he held in his pocket with his other hand between his fingers. He supposed he didn't need _that_ anymore.

"Thank you for the flowers," said a light voice next to him. Blaine's eyes snapped open and he looked over in shock. There was no way that she could have spoken. He was dead, he thought. Dead people didn't talk. But the graceful boy next to him looked back at him and smiled feebly. "Hey," he said.

Blaine didn't know what to say—he just wept a mixture of overwhelming emotions. He never expected to hear any more words brush past his lips again, to see Kurt smiling at him, to see him breathing on his own. But here he was, breathing, talking, smiling, _living_. He thought that Kurt never looked more incredible than he did now, alive.


End file.
